On April 20, Nan 'an Business Daily, Chen wrote "Elementary School Attached to Primary School Composition"

At one end of the sky, the thin morning fog, birds gathered over Evian, and every moment seemed to be done in the sky. Beauty is everywhere. Spring grass. The kind and beautiful early spring morning is a little cold, but it can't hide the vitality that spring should have. The warm morning light shines on people, but they don't care, take a shortcut and rush to work. 167-year-old girl stopped on the lawn, silently staring at the destroyed grass, with pity. Then slowly crouched down, leaned forward, stretched out white hands, gently holding the grass with a broken waist. It seems that I don't trust running all the way to the store to ask for a pen and board. I wrote the slogan in tender handwriting, carefully inserted it into the soil to protect the fragile grass. Regardless of the mud on her body, she wiped her sweat, and her watery eyes were full of smiles, and then she disappeared into the vast sea of people and was out of sight. ...

The grass is long and green, and the girl's smile is a kind of beauty.

The wooden bridge gave way to each other. Simple and beautiful autumn, full of red maple and golden shade are the simple beauty of farmers. The narrow wooden bridge on the gurgling water spans both banks. A simple young man was about to get on the bridge when he caught a glimpse of an old man coming from the opposite side, with patched clothes, gray hair and elegant eyes. He is as thin as a gust of wind and may be blown away. From time to time, young people make a few words of exhortation. After the old man left, the young man waved and turned away.

Small bridges and flowing water, singing softly, comity between neighbors is a simple beauty.

The deep alley is bright, warm and beautiful, and the cold wind is biting at night. The dark alley is covered with a thick snow blanket. An old woman rubbed her hands and gasped, slowly walked out of the iron gate and took a deep look at the alley. Then she struggled to lift the wooden ladder and leaned against the dead tree. Then, trembling, her bloated body climbed to the top slowly and hard, and hung a lamp in her hand on the branch. I smiled contentedly when I saw the light on, and the wrinkles on my face became more obvious. Then I went home, leaving a person's light on, flashing and on silently in the snow.

Snowflakes are rustling, and the old lamp is a kind of warm beauty.

At the end of the day, there is a faint sunset, rosy clouds all over the sky, and a warm wind blowing slightly. The picture is fixed, and the beauty everywhere is finally connected into this beautiful world and becomes eternal in memory. Beauty is everywhere.